


Blind Spot

by JaziandCo



Series: Secrets - Shadowhunters (TV) [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: 1.04 ficlet, Gen, M/M, Mild Transphobia, Pre-Relationship, Trans Male Character, mild homophobia, mostly internalized by alec, transgender alec lightwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 14:59:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11404812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaziandCo/pseuds/JaziandCo
Summary: Alec liked to think he had everything sorted neatly into boxes. There were things he was supposed to care about: family, tradition, the Clave, the Law, fighting demons, preserving the Lightwood name. Demons fit nicely into the “absolute evil” box. Downworlders were closeby in the “don’t trust” box. Mundanes -- and his “preferences” as his mother liked to call them -- safely tucked away in a beat up little thing labeled “ignore”.





	Blind Spot

Alec liked to think he had everything sorted neatly into boxes. There were things he was supposed to care about: family, tradition, the Clave, the Law, fighting demons, preserving the Lightwood name. Demons fit nicely into the “absolute evil” box. Downworlders were closeby in the “don’t trust” box. Mundanes -- and his “preferences” as his mother liked to call them -- safely tucked away in a beat up little thing labeled “ignore”.

 

Enter a certain Clary Fray who kicked that one over. He was still upset at her for disrupting his system. Point being, he was used to having everything neatly ordered, into boxes and lists and rigidly held rules. Nothing unexpected happened. Nothing changed. And certainly nothing rearranged everything.

 

Until Magnus Bane turned around and promptly upended every single one of his boxes.

 

The day had started off with a ridiculous hunt for the warlock that took Clary’s memories. Jace and Clary had enticed him out of hiding over a necklace he’d given a past lover that had ended up as a Lightwood heirloom (wouldn’t he  _ love _ to hear the story about how  _ that _ happened). The Circle had, in turn, tracked them, because  _ of course _ they did. Thankfully, he’d been possibly the only one in the group actually paying attention to their surroundings and was able to ambush the ambush, but not without providing Magnus the time to escape.

 

Which led to Jace demanding they use their  _ parabatai _ tracking to find him.

 

Which led to their little entourage running to the Warlock hideout to confront Magnus a second time.

 

Which led to him walking in on Magnus trading blows with a Circle member boasting about collecting warlock marks. Alec had impaled the traitor with an arrow and the warlock, seizing the opportunity, had finished him off with a particularly powerful spell to the chest.

 

“Well done,” Alec had drawled, not sure yet what to think of this Downworlder.

 

“More like medium rare,” came the return quip. Alec had narrowly avoided rolling his eyes before the man turned around to face him. “I’m- Magnus. I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced.”

 

And oh, but wasn’t that a crime. Alec could feel himself smile wide as his brain rebooted. Yes, he’d yet to admit to himself that he’d had certain  _ feelings _ for Jace, but that was nothing compared to what he felt in this moment. He’d never known a man could be so  _ pretty _ for starters- at least, not while still obviously being  _ a man _ . He didn’t think he could feel such instant attraction to someone like that either. And certainly not to a Downworlder. And he  _ definitely _ was not handsome or interesting enough to fluster an immortal and powerful being as well known as Magnus. But here he was, completely mortified at the sound of his own incessant babbling to a glitter-covered warlock that had flirted at him.

 

Magnus had taken pity on him with a knowing smile. “We should probably join the party,” he practically beamed. Alec wondered how it was possible to become  _ even prettier _ in the span of seconds. His brain was probably not finished coming back online. He’d nodded mutely and walked out of the room with a purpose, Magnus close behind him.

 

Unfortunately, Alec hadn’t had the time to sort all of his thoughts back into boxes where they belonged. They’d jumped straight from fighting Circle members to defend the remaining warlocks in Magnus’ lair, to moving the lair via magic (and more flirting- was that a requirement for magic to work?), to prepping for a demon to be summoned so Clary could get her memories back and maybe Jace could stop obsessing about this mundane for once. And, of course, his sister had shared a secret smile and whispered conversation with Magnus. He couldn’t shake the feeling they were talking about him.

 

To make matters worse, the demon Magnus summoned had taken a memory of Jace as his most precious loved one, and wasn’t it a pickle that everyone else got to see that be revealed too, right before Jace almost got eaten by the thing. Right. Warlocks are sorted in the “Downworlders” box with a “DO NOT TRUST” label on it, forgot about that one. A pretty face covered in glitter and lip gloss may have undone his sorting method, but that didn’t make it untrue. Magnus summoned the demon- he knew the memory would be revealed to everyone present. He knew this could happen. Once he knew Jace was okay, he stormed past Magnus to leave the room.

 

Magnus, of course, caught his arm. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Alexander.” he’d murmured. It was like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over Alec’s head. The sting of knowing the jig was up and even strangers could see through what you thought was stealth came with kohl-rimmed eyes.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Alec had snapped, brushing off the warlock’s hand and continuing on his way. He could have sworn he’d heard Magnus give a quiet reply, but in that moment he hadn’t enough energy to actually care.

 

And now he was back at the Institute, in the training room, losing his thoughts in the steady  _ twang _ and  _ thump _ of his archery. Stupid Clary, for coming into their lives and completely upsetting the natural order of things. Stupid Jace, for letting himself- no, letting them  _ all _ get swept up in this one mundane’s problems. Stupid Magnus, for reminding him of all the things he wanted and couldn’t have and filed away to never revisit. Nothing to be ashamed of- what the hell. And how much did Magnus actually know about him? That he, a man, liked other men, clearly. What abo- no. Magnus had distinctly called him “Alexander” and not-

 

“Alexis?” Alec felt himself twitch as Hodge’s head appeared from around the corner. “I know a lot has happened today, but that report-”

 

“Alec.”

 

“Wha- oh. Yes. Alec, sorry. You know I forget. It’s just that I knew you as little Ally befo-”

 

“Hodge, yeah, I know. Look, I’ll get to work on that report right now. Don’t worry about it.”

 

Hodge grinned, clapped him on the shoulder, and hobbled off. Alec prided himself that his hands had stopped shaking by the time he put his bow back on the rack. Dammit. He was over this, it didn’t affect him anymore, he didn’t care. Back in the “ignore” box, where things are supposed to stay and not be scattered all over the place and laid out on the floor by attractive strangers. It was bad enough when his parents  _ insisted _ on calling him that. It was bad enough most of the Institute “forgot” and called him Alexis instead of the much shorter (and more masculine) nickname he preferred. He’d lived with that his whole life. That was fine.

 

Izzy had showed him a few things to make it better after one desperate night where he’d felt if he didn’t tell someone he might do something stupid like jump off the Institute’s roof. She’d listened to him, cried with him. In the morning, she’d started calling him Alec. The name had stuck between the two of them- and later Jace, when she’d convinced him to let their brother help. He was, after all, Alec’s future  _ parabatai _ .

 

Within a week, Izzy had done enough research that Alec had been too embarrassed to even try to read, finding clothing to help hide his chest and present him in a more… man-ish fashion. They’d cut his hair and there’d been a solid month of doing double-takes at his reflection. Jace had been confused at first, but eventually had shrugged with a “whatever makes you happy, man.”

 

That had been six years ago. Six years of diligently following his siblings’ advice of how to walk and talk and dress himself so new people did not raise an eyebrow to “Alec” and “brother”. Six years of swallowing that spike in his chest every time he heard “Alexis” be called by someone in the Institute. Six years of his parents frowning at his continued refusal to show his sister how to be a proper Shadowhunter lady.

 

And apparently six years of work could be flushed down the toilet by a single warlock who saw right through it all in a matter of hours. If he could, how many other Downworlders and mundanes could too? He was used to this from Shadowhunters, dammit. How did one encounter even dredge all this back up? Alec sighed heavily, thumping his head against the desk where his report was waiting to be written.

 

It really had been easier with everything tucked away in boxes.

**Author's Note:**

> First published fic since I was in middle school and that was longer ago than I care to admit. If you enjoyed and want to see more, let me know! I think I enjoy this version of Alec and will be coming back to him as time goes on.
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely BiconBane


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